B.S. Psychology
by Cemetery Mink
Summary: Don't mess with the sub......
1. the sub

Disclaimer: All of this is a work of fiction

Disclaimer: All of this is a work of fiction. The lunatics in it do NOT belong to me. Hannibal Lecter belongs to Thomas Harris, all the rest are products of my own imagination, although some of the characters do exist, their personalities have been slightly altered. 

Hannibal Lecter's face loomed in the darkness. 

"Tell me, Clarice. Would you ever say to me, stop? If you loved me, you'd stop?" 

A pause of breathless anticipation then came the reply. "Not in a thousand years." 

"Eat the rude!!!" screamed my friend Jam, prompting hisses from the audience.

"Shhhhh!!!"

"Shut up!"

"What's your problem?!"

"Morons!"

"Crazy Kids!"

"Be quiet and enjoy the movie!"

We were in the local theatre, watching the movie Hannibal. Prior to that evening's activity, my mates and I had engaged in a heavy round of drinking, and the words tequila and vodka were most definitely involved. Nicky had snuck in even more vodka through her backpack, ingeniously disguised in mineral water bottles. We had already consumed most of our abundant supply and as a result, Jam, Nicky, Clyde, Fred, Chick, and I were unmistakably drunk.

"Aw man, she is monumentally fucked!" groaned Chick.

My teeth chattering from the freezing cold of the theatre, I could only nod my head in agreement. The audience had quieted down somewhat, and in the silence broken only by Julianne Moore's labored breathing; our voices rang loud in the cold air.

"Wha? Huh?" Clyde looked up, momentarily knocked awake from her drunken stupor. 

"Ey, what's happening," she slurred.

"He's gonna fuckin' eat her!!!" Chick's boyfriend, the ever-helpful Freddy snarled the answer.

"Oh, alright." Curiosity satisfied, Clyde curled into her chair and joined Nicole, who had long since boughta ticket to dreamland. 

Much much later, we staggered out of the deserted theatre in order to get our reasonably sober, but still alcohol laden asses home. We walked Clyde to her car, a 99 Lexus. 

"Right. See you guys tomorrow."

"Yeah, bye Clyde, see ya," We chorused.

"Damn! That bitch starling doesn't know what a good thing she's got. I would *love* to have that man *eat* me." Nicky said, kicking a pebble across the gravel.

"Jesus, Nick. You and your dirty mind."

"Oh yeah Fred? As if you and Chicky haven't already done everything I just said and so much more!" she shot back.

"Ya, whatever."

We got to Jam's car, a silver BMW Z8, and she, Freddy, and Chick got in. "So, uh, we got an 8 a.m. class tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Bye." 

They drove off into the darkness, leaving Nicole and me to stare after them for a while.

"Damnit!" she said. "I just remembered. Mr. Sifter'sstill in the hospital because of his blood pressure. Just great. Goody-goody. They're gonna send another inept moron to handle us. Poor Mr. Sifter. I suppose he just isn't up to teaching our psychology class." She smiled evilly, remembering the way she used to drive him up the wall with her crazy questions. 

"Let's not forget who sent him to the hospital in the first place," I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing Nicky. That's all right. You're probably going to get rid of the sub in five minutes, tops." I grinned. "Nuf' said. About the movie, what did youthink about the ending?"

"Gunner, since I slept through most of it, I am in no position to answer that question."

"Yeah, but you woke up just as he was about to cut his hand off."

"Well there was that, but…"

"I kinda liked the book better."

"So what? You fancy the cop and the cannibal running away to live happily ever after? Jesus that's sick. Why would he want to be with her, when there's lil' olme?"

"Nicky, there's nothing little about you," I paused, indicating her ample cleavage. "Besides, you can't help who you love. Remember Alec?" I reminded her. She used to date this absolutely gorgeous half-Danish guy. I flat lined when I first saw him.

"Oh puh-lease. The bloke was pure arm and eye candy. He hardly had any brains a'tall." Nick lapsed into her Scarlet O' Hara imitation. By this time we had reached the end of the parking lot where we had parked out cars. The theatre parking lot had been packed with the automobiles of fellow moviegoers who had come to watch Hannibal. It had taken us a good ten minutes to find space, and the fact that we were tipsy didn't do any wonders. Funny how so many people came to watch the movie and how few Lecterphiles I knew. Now, ours were the only two cars left in the lot. The lamplight cast eerie shadows on the pavement. From the trees came the call of an owl, breaking the silence, considering it was past midnight. For the moment, I felt as if Nicky and I were the only two people left on the earth. She swung her long legs over the door of her red jeep Cherokee.

"Ugh. Why the hell did my father have to take away my Porsche?" she complained. "At least you still have your bitchy car." 

That was true. I loved my little black Mazda Miata. I often liked to drive around in it with the top down, dressed all in black and wearing a white fedora and blue-tinted glasses. Nick and I had both been involved in several juvenile pranks. The latest of which—a drive by egging of our chemistry teacher Mrs.Gallagher's house—had cost her her Porsche. Her father was giving it back to her after a year of good conduct. Nicky had 9 months to go. I suppose as college freshman we believed we had a right to regular shitty behavior. I sighed and got into my car.

"See ya, Nicky."

"Yeah. Bysie-bysie." 

laughing like a lunatic, she drove away. I sat in the dark for a few moments, wondering who the next poor sub was gonna be. Wonder what would happen if… naw. Shaking my head, I started the engine and popped in the Gorillaz c.d., driving home to Damon Albarne going 

"I ain't happy…I'm feeling glad…I got sunshine in a bag…I'm useless…but not for long…the future is coming on…is coming on…is coming on…"

I don't know how we managed to, but somehow we were able to drag our sorry behinds to class the following day. I myself was nursing a major hangover, and the bright sunshine did little to staunch the brain splitting headache I had. Nicky, Clyde, Freddy, Chick and Jam were probably doing no better. Nicky however looked perfectly coiffed as always, though swore she felt the opposite.

"I swear I feel like a goddamn ten-wheeler just smashed into me. How do I look?"

"You look like the goddamn ten-wheeler just about missed you by a mile." I replied. 

"Seriously, Nick, you look great. As usual."

"So you bitches are doing no better than me, huh?"

"Mornin' Freddy." Nicole grimaced. 

"Damnit Gunner, you said I looked fine!"

"You do! Stop worrying. It's not as if you're on the market for a new boy toy." I rolled my eyes, turned around, and ran smack into Clyde.

"Outta my way," she growled. "Do not you dare fucking mess with me right now." She looked fierce for a moment, and then her expression softened. "Sorry, Gunner. I got a hangover. Guess you have one too?"

"Damn right."

"That bloody sub had better be good. Or you could just run him off, Nick."

"Glad to oblige…" Nicole smiled, flashing her pearly whites.

"Class is about to start," I said. "Where are Chick and Jam, Freddy?"

"They weren't looking too good. I think maybe they're still home in bed."

"Awright." 

We took our seats and I proceeded to lay my head on my folded arms, praying to God for lightning to strike me. All around, the incessant chatter of my classmates rose to a fever pitch. Sighing, I prayed to God for lightning to strike them as well.

"Ahem. Ahem!" the high-pitched voice of our dean cut through the noise of the class. "As you know, Mr.Sifter has not yet been released from the hospital," he stopped, giving Nicole an evil stare (or rather his impression of it, which made him look hilarious) 

I rolled my eyes. Nicole gave him her best "Who me? But I'm a good girl" look. Good girl. Yeah right. As soon as he resumed speaking, Nicole made a motion as if to shoot herself (watch Plunkett and MacLean). 

"And I believe he will be able to deal with you quite well. Everybody let us welcome Doctor Henry Fell." 

With that he walked out the room. Nicole continued to make dying noises. I was stifling a giggle at her actions when in walked Hannibal Lecter. 

So? What do you think? I have the next installment all done, but I ain't posting it unless you guys say sumthin'. Thanx.


	2. part 2

Howdy, y'all. thanx for reviewing the fic. this is actually my first attempt, so please bear with me. newayz, here's chapter two. to those of you whose e-mail ads i can find, i'll get around to thanking you, but my prelims are coming up....  
  
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disclaimer: Lecter ain't mine. the rest of the loonys do exist, and we ain't yankees either. we just have foreign teachers. hope mister Sifter doesn't read this! by the way, the quote on my binder is from Screaming Ferret. check out her lists! :)  
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My heart rate must have escalated to a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Beside me, Nicole was opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish, Freddy was staring round-eyed and Clyde was even more monosyllabic than usual.  
  
"OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod…" Nicky was repeating again and again. "We are going to die."  
  
"Shut your trap, Nicky!"  
  
"You shut yours FREDerick! We are fucking screwed!" she hissed.  
  
"Clyde had hidden her face behind a book by Jessica Zafra (a really excellent author, I must add) in the hopes of avoiding the doctor's piercing maroon gaze. I was too busy flatlining to do anything more than grip my desk tightly in the hopes of not falling off.  
  
"Clyde…" I was trying to say something.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Do you think he remembers us from last night?"  
  
"He is a fictional character. He is not real. This cannot be happening. Are you happy now you loony Lecterphile?! The nut is our fucking sub!"  
  
My classmates continued to chatter away, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there was a mass-murdering cannibal standing in for our teacher.  
  
"Good Morning," all of a sudden, the noise died down as everyone turned to actually look at doctor Fell for the first time. Clyde slunk lower into her chair. Freddy picked up his backpack and bolted out of the room. Doctor Lecter stared at the door a while after he left.  
  
"My, wasn't that rude. Tell me, miss…" Lecter said, looking straight at me.  
  
"Gunner," I squeaked. "Gunner DeLa Vega."  
  
"Ah yes. Well tell me, miss DeLa Vega, Gunner? May I call you that?" I nodded hurriedly. "What do you think bothered that young man so much, hmmm?" he looked into the class record he held in his hand. "Mr. Frederick Sanchez, I believe."  
  
I gulped, knowing full well the reason. "I don't know, sir…"  
  
"You may address me as Doctor Fell. Are you sure, Gunner? Tell me, and don't lie or I'll know."  
  
"Sir, she sure as hell doesn't know!!" It was Clyde. I stared, open-mouthed with shock.  
  
"Really now, Miss…Rodriguez, Bonnie Claire. Why do you say that?"  
  
"Clyde," she bit out.  
  
"Everybody calls me Clyde."  
  
"Okey-dokey then. I suppose you could answer my question."  
  
"Uh…ummm, maybe he had something important to…uh, do?" she finished lamely. By this time the class had grown restless and were beginning to act boisterously. Gulp. Doctor Lecter eats the rude.  
  
As Nicky and I listened in terrified silence, it began to dawn on me that my classmates hadn't a clue as to our new teacher's identity. What am I thinking? They were being noisy. They were being rude! Oh God we are screwed. Great, now I'm starting to rhyme. Snap out of it, Gunner! Think, think, think! How do you get yourself out of this room without dissing a cannibalistic sociopath?  
  
Mercifully the bell chose this time to signal the end of the period. Under other circumstances I would have cringe at the thought of going to Calculus, but right now, no sound on earth could have been sweeter. At the ring of the bell, Clyde immediately picked up her bag without bothering to wait for the Doctor to say so. As my class started to file out, we remained in our seats, trying to convince ourselves that this was not happening.  
  
After a few minutes, we realized that we were the only people left in the room. And that Doctor Lecter was still in there with us. For the first time, I allowed myself to look at him fully. He was dressed in an expensive-looking dark blue suit with matching tie. Loafers perfectly shined, and hair combed neatly. One hip was perched on the desk as he regarded us with thinly veiled amusement. He tipped his head down and smiled at whatever I was clutching in my hands. It was my binder. The front cover said "Homo Sapiens Sapiens: The Other White Meat" underneath a picture of the movie 'Hannibal's' poster. Suddenly, he smiled. It wasn't a psycho smile, but I shivered nonetheless.  
  
"What are you three waiting for? You'll be late for your next class. The would be irresponsible, not to mention rude."   
  
At these words we raced out of the room, colliding at the door, not giving a damn about bruises in our haste to just get out. Until…"Oh, and miss DeLa Vega," I turned around, trembling. "Love your binder," he winked. Jesus. He sounded like he did in the Silence of the Lambs. We ran for our lives.  
  
As we tore through the halls, faster than cannonballs, we didn't care about the odd looks people were giving us. Clyde, cool as fuck Clyde was actually running. Clyde never ran. Not even if she was going to be late for class. She was too cool for that. Neither did princess Nicole. I couldn't care less. While running, I thought about what was happening, mentally cursing myself for imbibing liquor last night. If I had just behaved at the theater, hell, I was behaved! They were the noisy ones! Let THEM get eaten. I couldn't' do that though. Thanks to a liberal amount of alcohol what should've been a dream come true was quickly turning into a nightmare.  
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please bear with the cussing. that's just the way we are.... :) as i mentioned before, we ain't yanks, so how's my english? 


	3. Dr. Lecter

disclaimer: Lecter ain't mine, so there! Don't sue, pleeease? by the way, Clyde and Nicky say hi.  
  
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We got to the parking lot still intact and jumped into Nicky's jeep. Clyde was at the wheel.  
  
"Where are we going?" she asked.  
  
"I don't know and I don't give a fuck as long as it's far, far away from here!" Nicole shouted.  
  
"Look, I'm driving us to Jam's house, it's nearest. Call Chick. Tell her to meet us there." Good ol' Clyde. Always takes charge of the situation.  
  
"Uhh, guys?"  
  
"What now, Gunner?" Clyde asked as she was pulling out the parking lot. Nicole was looking over her shoulder as she dialed Chick's cell number.  
  
"What about Fred?"  
  
"Let him get eaten. Dumb fuck should never have ran his cowardly ass out the room." As Nicky started to scream frantically into her phone, I leaned my head back into the seat and closed my eyes.  
  
  
  
When we got to Jam's, Chick was already there. Jam shoved a bottle of tequila at me.   
  
"Don't talk, just drink." I took a long swig, and let the warmth course through my veins. It was useless. I still hadn't calmed down. I took another, and another. Not minding that there was no salt nor lime, not caring about the strength of the liquid, so potent it made my eyes water. I collapsed into a chair.  
  
"Okay, let me get this straight. From what I could decipher of Nicky's hysterical ramblings, we have a teacher who looks exactly like Hannibal Lecter."  
  
"No, you moron!!! Hannibal Lecter IS our teacher!!!" Nicky was starting to scream again.  
  
"He's using the name doctor Fell. Does that ring any fucking bells?" Clyde was the calmer of the two. Chick gave us a blank look. "In the movie, he was using that name as the curator of some museum."   
  
"The Pallazzo Capponi," despite everything, I was still a true Lecterphile at heart. Still another blank.   
  
"Yeah, whatever, Gunner." Clyde was exasperated now. She threw up her hands, one of which was holding a bottle of gin, spilling a little on the carpet. "Of course not. I should've known. You and loverboy were too busy playing tonsil hockey to even fucking WATCH the movie. Chick, why don't you just get the hell outta my face?"  
  
Chicky turned to bother me. "Gunner, where's Freddy?" I shrugged. "Goddammit, where is my fucking boyfriend? Don't tell me you just left him out there!!!!"  
  
"He bolted out the classroom," I shrugged again. "Not my fault." Right now, I was just tired, so damned tired. Chick ran out of the house. Moments later, we heard the engine of her Missubishi Pajero and the squeal of tires as she revved it up. I couldn't care less.  
  
Just as she left, we saw a black Lamborghini Diablo pull into Jam's driveway. Tammy. Nicole must've told her what happened.   
  
The door burst open, and in strolled Tammy. If there was anyone in our mad, sick, demented universe who made sense, it was Tammy. She pulled three bottles of Absolut out of her bag. One of the things I loved about my country was that there was no legal drinking age. We could get drunk wherever, and whenever, as long as we weren't in school. Tammy sat directly in front of me.  
  
"So, Gunner. Nicole's told me everything she knows.:  
  
"And that is….?" I replied gloomily.  
  
"That last night you went out drinking, then watched the movie. You acted like total shits, and now Hannibal Lecter is subbing for Mr. Sifter." She arched a brow. "Did I leave out anything?"  
  
"No, no. that's just about it." This was not helping. But somehow, Tammy's calmness in the midst of all this chaos gave me something to hold on to.  
  
"Okay, what I need to know is, you're the resident Lecterphile here, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Where was this heading?  
  
"And you know everything there is to know about the doctor, his habits, likes, dislikes, pet peeves, etc?"  
  
"Not everything." I was sinking deeper into the alcohol-induced haze. "Just most of it. Tam, what am I going to do?"  
  
"No Gunner," she gently pried the bottle out of my grasp. "The question is, what are WE going to do?" I immediately felt better just hearing those words. Still... I reached for the vodka. She opened it for me. Jam and Nicole were nowhere to be found.  
  
"Now, what things piss him off?"  
  
"Being rude." I waved my hand as I spoke. "Bad table manners, the like."  
  
"I don't see you guys having that problem. I mean, we're all pretty decent until we've had a drink. Or three." She grinned.  
  
Nicole and Jam came down the stairs. Nicky didn't seem to be doing too well. "Sorry guys," she said. "I kinda threw up."  
  
Jam helped her get seated, and gave her my tequila. "Look y'all just stay here, and me and Bo will go get your cars. Okay? Gunner, throw me the keys. You too, Clyde." I rummaged around in my pockets, then tossed the keys at her. Clyde did the same. Tammy stood up and started to speak.  
  
"Look, the way I see it, there is nothing we can do except try to live with it, and I do mean LIVE. Pardon the pun." Nicole smiled feebly, Clyde groaned. "So what are we waiting for? Let's start drinkin'! Clyde, pass me that vodka, Gunner, wipe that expression off your sorry-ass face, Nicky, what the fuck is wrong with you, girl?" in spite of everything, I found myself laughing along with them. Everything was almost back to normal.   
  
  
The next day, doctor Lecter's class wasn't in our schedule. Our school followed the M-sked, T-sked system, which meant that each class was only taken once every other day. Thank God for that. The vastness of our campus made allowances for the avoidance of certain people. It was a little over six, and most of the people had already gone home, except those who were taking night classes. Clyde and company left hours earlier, leaving me, as I still had two more classes. I was on my way home when I realised that I had left my beloved binder in the Chemistry lab on the fifth floor. I was not looking forward to going up and getting it. But still, a girl's gotta do what a girl's got to do.   
  
Huffing and puffing from my long climb, I reached the laboratory only to find it locked. Boy was I pissed.  
  
"Fuckfucketyfuck!!!! I need to get that damn binder!!!!' I kicked at the door with no success whatsoever. Wait, there was a light down the hall. Maybe someone there had a key. I walked over to the door and knocked. It was opened by the last person on earth I wanted to be alone with at the moment. Doctor Lecter.   
  
He was wearing a white shirt, top two buttons opened for comfort, and black trousers. He held a bottle of wine in his left hand, and the door with his right.  
  
"Ah miss DeLa Vega. What may I do for you at this rather late hour?" he enquired politely.   
  
I fainted.  
  
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ey.... i got part four all done, but you'll just have to wait for it, or keep on feeding my review-hungry appetite. if you feel the urge to flame me, try to do it via e-mail, okey-dokey?  
  
  
  
  



	4. a bottle of wine

disclaimer: lecter ain't mine, so there!  
  
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I floated back to reality listening to the strains of Bach's Goldberg Variations. I had recently downloaded it off the net (despite my country's great liquor policies, it has really crappy music stores. Grrrr!), and had driven my sister crazy playing it over and over again. I let out a long sigh, thinking I was home and meeting the doctor had been a really crazy dream. That is until a cool and refined voice cut through the clouds of my consciousness.  
  
"I see you are awake. Welcome back to the living, Miss DeLa Vega."  
  
I opened my eyes. Doctor Lecter was sitting in the chair in front of the one I was in. a bottle of Chateau Petrus' stood on the table in between. The table was the only thing separating me from him. I started to look the room over.  
  
As mentioned, I was seated comfortably in a large armchair in front of a large window. The room was sumptuously appointed, with large paintings and a whole load of antiques, far beyond any normal teacher's salary. Of course Doctor Lecter was no ordinary teacher. And I was no ordinary student.  
  
"Would you like some?" I turned my attention back to the doctor.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" remembering how important it was to be polite.  
  
"Would you like some?" He repeated, raising his wineglass.  
  
"Do I look old enough to drink, doctor?"  
  
"Come now, Ms. DeLa Vega. Surely you and your friends enjoyed much more potent liquor at the theatre the other night."   
  
Oh God, he remembered.  
  
"Point taken, doctor." I smiled, feeling silly. He filled another glass and handed it to me.  
  
"So, Miss DeLa Vega, what brings you here?" He regarded me intently with those piercing maroon eyes.  
  
"Well, Doctor," I took a sip. Hey, it was good. But then, I shouldn't be surprised. What else could be expected from a man with doctor Lecter's tastes? "I left my binder in the chemistry lab." I took another sip.  
  
"Ah yes, the one with the rather charming caption on the front. What did it say again? Homo Sapiens Sapiens: The Other White Meat. How quaint."  
  
The conversation was running smoothly now. "Well, I got it off the net, doctor. I'm afraid I have very little originality."  
  
"Really, Ms. DeLa Vega. Do not belittle yourself so. I know I never did."  
  
"Of course, you on the other hand have a monstrous ego."   
  
Oh my God. Why did I say that? This was it, I was done for. I am soooo going to die. To my surprise, doctor Lecter laughed.  
  
"You know, you are a rather surprisingly outspoken young lwoman. I find that refreshing, after all the stuffiness of the faculty meetings. Really, quite a bore. Tell me, Miss DeLa Vega,…"  
  
"Gunner," I cut him off. "Really doctor, this is getting quite tedious. Nobody calls me Miss DeLa Vega. And I believe you did ask if you could call me Gunner." He looked stunned. "The ball is in your court, doctor."  
  
Doctor Lecter cocked his head to one side. "And what do your teachers call you?"  
  
"A pain," he let out a bark of laughter. "At least that's what I've heard."  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised." He looked at the great grandfather clock in the corner. It was half-past eight. "What time do you have to get home?"  
  
"Does it really matter?" I was in loathe to leave his company.  
  
"But of course. Your parents shall be worried."  
  
"Not really. Sometimes they don't even know I'm gone, or that I haven't some home from school."  
  
"Do they care so little for you?"  
  
"No," I grinned. "I'm just very good at sneaking in and out the house. I just lock the door to my room all the time, and escape through the window. They simply assume I am home. One should never assume."  
  
"I see." That stare again. "What does your mother do?"  
  
"She's a doctor. A surgeon."  
  
"And your father?"  
  
"Another surgeon."  
  
"So you come from a medical family?"  
  
"Damn right. Oh, pardon my French." He arched a brow.   
  
"Pray, continue."  
  
"Okay. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. all of the whole lousy lot of them doctors, dentists, or something related to the medical profession."  
  
"Is that why you chose to take a pre-medical course?"  
  
"Seemed like a logical choice."  
  
"Hmmmmm. And how are you enjoying your studies?"  
  
"Frankly doctor, they bore the hell out of me, if such a thing is even possible."  
  
"And why is that?" he poured me another glass of wine. I hadn't even noticed it was empty.   
  
"Because they teach me nothing I don't already know."  
  
"That seems reasonable. Have you ever been to an autopsy, a dissection?"  
  
"No," I admitted. "We don't get to do that until we go to medical school."   
  
There was a wicked gleam in his eye. Giving me a conspiratorial look; "Come with me, and don't forget the wine…."  
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please r/r. thanx. if you feel the urge to flame me, do it via e-mail, okey-dokey? 


	5. dead bodies everywhere!!!

disclaimer: lecter ain't mine. the lines at the beginning are by my  
best friend, Blue Cerise. the title of this chapter is a song by korn.  
  
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Smiling with a bottle of wine,   
she's got a new crime  
waiting for her on a red light....  
  
-blue cerise-  
  
  
We walked quickly down the hallways, our footsteps echoing hollowly in the silence of the empty Natural Sciences building. Dr. Lecter was whistling some creepy sort of music that reminded me of my grandfather, curse his eternally damned soul. He twirled a set of keys in his right hand as a pair of clean wine glasses clinked together in his left. We stopped before a door that said; "Warning: Unauthorized Personnel Keep Out." I had never been to this part of the N.S.B. before.  
  
"Hold this for me," he said, handing me the glasses. He located the key immediately, opening the door, and stepping quietly inside. Around me I could barely make out what seemed like a large number of white sheets. He flicked on the lights. Oh man, the sheets covered a whole load of dead bodies. Jesus! I set the glasses and wine on an empty dissection table while he opened a supplies cabinet and took out two pairs of lab gowns and lightweight canvas aprons. He tossed one of each at me.  
  
"Put them on." By now I could see where this was headed, but his question took me completely by surprise.  
  
"Would you like to start now, or would you prefer we look for a live one, hmmmm?" Uh-oh.   
  
I knew I was looking at a life expectancy of oh, about five seconds, tops, if I gave the wrong answer. "Doctor, you do realize I am waaaay too young to commit my first felony."  
  
"Nonsense," he pulled on some white latex gloves. "If you're old enough to drink, you're old enough to kill…"  
  
"We ARE talking about capital punishment, here."  
  
"I should worry? I committed my first ones at six…"  
  
"That does not count!" I was getting a little frantic now. Being a Lecterphile was one thing, but being a murdering Lecterphile was another. "It was in fucking World War II for Chrissakes! Nobody gives a fuck about a couple of dead soldiers!"  
  
"Language, my dear." He warned. "And who said anything about them being soldiers?"  
  
"Jesus." I swore under my breath.  
  
"No, I don't believe it was Jesus. I thought you would know better than to invoke religion in my presence." He switched on the saw and let it buzz for a couple of seconds before quickly turning it off. We heard someone outside the door, trying to get in using another set of keys. I held my breath, and saw him slip out the harpy.  
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sorry for now guys, but that's all i can think of at the moment as i am  
experiencing a case of writers block, as well as prelims anxiety. damn.   
i have to listen to the teachers in order to pass, so that means no lecterfic writing for a while. please be so kind as to r/r. feel free to suggest changes as well as plot developments. if you want to flame me, do it via e-mail, okey-dokey?  



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